


The Shape of You, Mark - An Ed Sheeran and Markiplier Fanfiction

by lunarsmoke



Category: Ed Sheeran - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:35:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunarsmoke/pseuds/lunarsmoke
Summary: ed sheeran fans do not fucking come for me oh my god im sorryenglish moots also don't come for me, i bullshitted what surrey would look likethis is hell on earth im so sorry @imhighonthemoon on twitter guys
Relationships: Markiplier/Amy Nelson, markiplier/ed sheeran
Kudos: 6





	The Shape of You, Mark - An Ed Sheeran and Markiplier Fanfiction

He walks through the dark silhouette of a crowd, squinting at the lights from their phones. They're all chanting lyrics to a song he doesn't know, by an artist he's never heard of. He makes it to the front of the stage. A crusty ginger man smiles up at him from behind the mic. 

***THE BEFORE***

Mark Fischbach walks through the wreckage, shaking off a sharp piece of plastic that's stuck itself in his jean cuffs. The world effectively ended on January 6th, 2021, when the Capitol went down in a transcendent flame. The United States was left without a government and, seeing how the US has fucked them over, the rest of the world didn't help them. People roamed the streets in hunger and pain, and just as they thought it couldn't get any worse, the tsunamis started. Unbelieveable waves drowned the coastal cities on the West and East Coast, most likely due to global warming's rising sea levels. People began to speak of a leader of their New World. A leader who barricaded himself in a concert hall with thousands of groupies, a leader who wanted adorable and love and _attention._ And by God did he get attention.

Mark decided to go and find this Supposed Leader, and left his girlfriend Amy back in LA with the pups. Amy urged him to think, that it was a bad idea, but Mark was already so wrapped up in it that trying to convince him was pointless. He took an (admittedly sketchy) flight to the UK, and here we find him, in the center of Surrey. A bleak slice of land, some streets flooded and all covered in trash. Mark looks up at the dove-gray sky, sighs, and keeps trudging through the wasteland. He had, he reckoned, another ten or so miles to go before he reached the place people talked about. This concert hall floats in a cloud of rumours, stories wrapped around the old building like vines. People say it's filled with gold, the leader sitting at the top on a throne. They say he's got all of his 'groupies' under a spell. (Mark wrote this off because it was bullshit.) At this point, Mark has no idea what to expect from this decrepit old hall.

And off he goes, shaking himself out of thought.

**A FEW HOURS LATER**

Mark's running out of food, and out of strength. He forces himself to keep going, exhausting the last of his supplies in hope that it would be worth it. At last. Mark stands panting at the top of a grassy knoll, viewing the hall in its entirety. This shoddy building people spoke of was built with lies. Instead there sits a majestic Victorian building, bricks as red as blood. Roses curl around the entryway, and to most, it would look like a museum. But to Mark, as he stood there shaking, it looked haunted.

It wasn't normal.

As Mark cautiously peers inside, almost no light penetrates except for the rickety old lanterns that line the walls. He walks into the hall, and the floor creaks under his feet with a menace. As Mark walks closer to the only doorway, he hears a faint singing getting louder and louder until he stands outside the mahogany door and turns the knob. The concert hall...it's HUGE. It's magnificent, with chandeliers and sconces, and gorgeous wood carvings lining the cream walls. At the top of the room, there's a balcony. A man sits at the grand piano, and sings. Mark walks through the dark silhouette of a crowd, squinting at the lights from their phones. They're all chanting lyrics to a song he doesn't know, by an artist he's never heard of. He makes it to the front of the stage. The crusty ginger man smiles down at him from behind the mic. "You aren't one of the regulars," the man whispers to Mark. This doesn't affect the song being spread across the room, which Mark assumes is being played by speakers anyhow. "I'm Ed. Ed Sheeran," The man grins. "Why don't you come with me to the back, and we can have a little _talk._ " Ed jumps gracefully off the balcony, grabs Mark's arm, and drags him to a small, musty room. 

As Ed and Mark are illuminated properly for the first time. Mark looks Ed up and down, and realises. "Holy shit. He's GORGEOUS," Mark thinks furiously. As Mark blushes bright pink, Ed notices. He's been thinking the same thing. Without thinking, Mark disregarding the whole purpose of his trip here, they embrace. A bond forms instantly. Or is it formed? They met in a past life. Both of them don't know that, though.

Yet.


End file.
